


Can't Get Out

by gardenofmaris



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, Multiple Personalities, Rumplestiltskin inspired the bad guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardenofmaris/pseuds/gardenofmaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter was kidnapped and hasn't even seen sunlight since his abduction. Who is this strange rescuer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Get Out

Peter stared in wonder at the man standing in front of him. He rubbed at his crusted burning eyes and scooted back, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. ****

The strange man approached him slowly, holding out a hand as if he were a dog with a history of mood swings. Then, judging by the growling he caught coming out of his own throat, that might not be so off the mark.

“Shh, I’m not here to hurt you,” the man cooed, stopping his advance. “I’m here to get you out.”

“Out?” Peter croaked.

“Yeah.” The stranger nodded. “Come on, before he gets back.”

Peter hesitated for a moment before scrambling forward, around the man, and out the door into the light. He stopped short when he got out, falling to the ground and covering his burning eyes from the searing light. A hand touched his shoulder gently and he flinched violently, expecting a blow.

Nothing happened.

“I won’t hurt you,” came the soothing voice of the stranger. “We need to get out of here fast.”

Peter whimpered but nodded, This man was his only salvation, his only way of escaping from the faceless man who tormented him daily. Slowly forcing his aching creaking bones to move, he stood, eyes closed, and reached out for the man so that he could just get out of here.

One of the man’s arms wrapped around his waist and guided him. After having been in that pitch black room for so long, he was essentially blind with the lights as bright as they were. He had to give his kidnapper that, at least. The man was smart.

When they stopped long enough for a loud creaking sound and for the light to get so much brighter that his eyes felt on fire even through his eyelids, Peter knew they were out.

He still couldn’t open his eyes, but he took in a deep breath and laughed almost hysterically. He was out, he was done, he was safe.

The arm around his waist tightened.

Peter felt himself being swung around and he was slammed into the side of something.

A hand wrapped itself around his throat and he clawed uselessly at it. His eyes opened of their own volition and through the painful haze he saw the beginnings of a face.

“What did you say to him?” a voice demanded. “How did he find out about you?”

“Y-you found me on your own,” Peter choked out, gasping for air. He didn’t understand. Why was his supposed rescuer acting like this. It didn’t make sense.

“Oh, dearie,  _I_ didn’t find you,” the voice purred, and Peter felt hot breath against his ear. “ _He_  found you. Lucky for you, it seems he didn’t find out about me. That’s always good. Pretty Boy needs to stay locked away where he can’t find me.”

The hand around his throat tightened more, and the last thing he heard as he blacked out was, “But now that he’s gone, what do you say we go and play, dearie?”

 


End file.
